


I Still Belong to You

by Aluxra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mild Blood, Needles, Stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 23:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16438652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: Anon prompt: "r76 with the prompt of: Kisses because everything hurts right now including being loved by you but you’re also the only thing that makes it feel better"Jack tries to stitch himself back up after a fight, until Gabriel shows up to help him.





	I Still Belong to You

Jack tossed the bloody scissors into the sink, disturbing the already pink stained water. It plinked against the bottom, splashing water over the lip of the sink onto the dirty linoleum floor.

Rifling through the first aid kit balancing on the bath edge beside him, he pulled out packets of sterile taped gauze, thread and a packet of needles. Setting them aside, he peeled back the rag pressed against his flank and studied the bleeding wound. Mottled blue and purple bruises ringed the break in his skin and trailed up his ribs, over his shoulder and spotted his arm. Shallower cuts and grazes were already healing, leaving thin, dried trails of blood across his skin that he didn't bother wiping away.

With a grunt of pain, he wiped away the blood on his side, clearing the area around it, and the rag went into the sink with a wet slop as well. Fumbling with the needle, he attempted to thread the narrow eye, his fingers shaking with exhaustion and excess adrenaline that had nowhere to go. After the seventh attempt, with blood streaking down his side and soaking into his trousers, he cursed in frustration. His elbows dug into his knees as he curled over himself, pressing his forehead against the back of his hands. He hissed at the flare of pain, hating the fact that he couldn't heal as fast as he used to, hating the fact that he'd gotten used to the healing factor the SEP had given him. In times like this, he hated ever joining the SEP in the first place, the list of grief that it had brought him far longer than the good it did him.

Straightening, he took a breath and raised the needle and thread to eye level. He guided the thread towards the needle, only to fail, and he cursed, kicking the toilet and cracking the porcelain. The needle fell from his hand, bouncing away across the floor and lost forever. The thread almost joined it, Jack's arm poised to throw it against the wall, when the dingy, weak light above him flickered, buzzing angrily. Watching it, he grabbed a spare rag that was once his t-shirt and hastily pressed it against his side, his free hand reaching for the firearm strapped to his thigh.

The filament inside hummed louder, and it flashed out, sending the small bathroom into darkness. Jack unclipped the gun from its holster, had it halfway out before cold, steely fingers wrapped around his wrist. He pulled, testing the hold: it didn't give, keeping him still where he sat. An angular, bone white mask formed in front of his face, painted bloody red from the glow of Jack’s visor. A body solidified between his knees, crouched low to the floor, blending seamlessly into the surrounding shadows.

"You've got one bullet in that thing," Gabriel growled, low and raspy behind the mask. "You think your aim is that good?"

"Come a little closer and find out," Jack replied without any really bite. He slid the gun back into the holster, relaxing his grip. Gabriel released Jack's wrist, watching him, waiting to see if he'd try again. Jack didn't move, holding his gaze.

Gabriel turned his attention to the wound in Jack's side, easing his hand away and peeling back the rag to expose it. He made a faint sound at the back of his throat, and he tossed the rag aside, picking the thread from Jack's hand. Retrieving the packet of needles from the first aid kit, he threaded it on the first attempt, even in the dark.

"You're not healing as fast," he said.

"Is that a question or a statement?" Jack replied, grunting in pain as Gabriel pushed his arm out of the way and began to stitch the wound closed.

"Where's the biotic field?

"I haven't exactly been able to stock up on supplies," Jack said. He winced, an itch developing where the needle was threading through his skin.

“Stop twitching. Where’s Ana?”

“We split up a while back. We were going to rendezvous soon.”

“Where?”

“Why the _fuck_ would I tell you that?” Jack snarled. Gabriel paused, cocking his head to meet Jack’s glare. “You’re the one who’s hunting us. What the fuck are you even doing here, Reaper?”

Gabriel tensed at the use of his codename; Jack could imagine the scowl on his face behind the mask.

“Thought I’d stop by and make sure you didn’t bleed out,” he answered simply, returning to his task. “Some dipshit grunt shouldn’t get to bring you down with one lucky shot. I’m the only one who gets to kill you, Jack.”

“You’re going the wrong way about it. You should be pulling my side apart, not stitching it back together. Why not just reach in under my skin and stop my heart?”

Gabriel said and did nothing for a long minute, staring at the deep cut in Jack’s side. Reaching out with his hand, he slowly caressed the edge of the skin with his thumb, sending a shiver through Jack. “I’m already under your skin, Jackie.”

Goosebumps rose on Jack’s skin at the sound of those words, unable to form a reply: to deny them or agree with them. Gabriel finished stitching him back together, fishing the scissors out of the sink and snipping off the excess thread. He was gentle as he pressed the taped gauze pad over the wound, careful around the bruises. His fingers stroked the bandage, claw tips skimming the bruised skin around the edge.

Jack’s breath shuddered out his lungs, the muscles in his side twitching at Gabriel’s touch. Gabriel mirrored the caress on Jack’s other side, his hands sliding around Jack’s narrow waist and up the contours of his ribs. The click of Jack’s throat as he swallowed was loud in the silence between them, his eyes focused on the crown of Gabriel’s head.

Gabriel’s gaze slowly rose to meet his, as he continued his path higher, leaving goosebumps in his wake: over Jack’s pectorals, his shoulders, coming to a stop cupping his neck just beneath the jawline, just shy of his visor. He didn’t need to ask what he wanted, didn’t need to ask if Jack would agree to it.

Jack peeled his fingers off the edge of the bath, raising trembling hands to the edge of his visor, his fingers seeking the release catch. The red screen feeding him visual cut out, sending him into near-complete darkness. The room disappeared into a haze of shadows and indistinguishable shapes, the only focal point the pure white mask staring up at him. Placing the visor carefully on the sink next to him, he stared at the mask for one long moment, before his eyes slid shut. If Gabriel wanted to kill him, he had the perfect chance right now.

Instead, warm lips met his, ghosting across the skin. Jack’s heart beat a rapid tattoo against his bruised ribs, his lungs heaving for breath that came too quick and too shallow. He kept his eyes closed, even though they both knew he wouldn’t be able to see Gabriel clearly without the aid of his visor. It still hurt, deep in his chest, when he felt the bristles of Gabriel’s stubble against his chin, the tip of his nose against his cheek as he pressed closer to Jack, deepening the kiss, thumbpads stroking his jaw.

Jack allowed him, slanting his lips against Gabriel’s hungrily, tasting smoke and heat on his tongue. He breathed in his scent, his arms wrapping around Gabriel’s shoulders, fingers digging into the thick material of his long, hooded coat. Heat soaked through the layers Gabriel wore, sinking into Jack’s skin. Gabriel’s hands dropped from his face to the belt loops of his trousers, hooking his thumbs through them and tugging them firmly, yanking Jack off the bath and down into his lap.

Jack grunted, but his knees never hit the floor: smoke surrounded him in a loose cocoon and deposited him on the bed in the room over from the bathroom. Jolted by the sudden, unexpected travel, he groaned in pain when his injuries protested, covering his eyes with one hand and blinking rapidly to orientate himself. Gabriel’s solid, heavy weight settled over him, holding himself up to avoid Jack’s injuries, his hips cradled in the V of Jack’s bent legs.  He continued to kiss Jack, their lips mapping out old territory with ease, following their old dance of give and take without conscious thought. His arms bracketed Jack’s head, his clawed fingers lightly toying with his hair.

Jack’s eyes slid shut again with a sigh, reaching up to curl his hand around the back of Gabriel’s head and pull him closer. Disappointment and sorrow swept through him when it was the hood of Gabriel’s coat under his palm, instead of his thick, beautiful hair. The sadness went deep, seeping down into his bones, weighing him down against the lumpy, scratchy mattress. His heart stuttered in pain so strong he thought it could kill him, tears springing to the corners of his eyes.

“Jackie,” Gabriel murmured, feeling him tense beneath him. He captured Jack’s lips in his own, pressing a hard kiss against his mouth. Jack pushed back, his hands clawing at Gabriel’s coat, trying to pull him down onto him with his full weight. Gabriel resisted, angling his body so if he lost balance, he wouldn’t land on Jack’s worse side.

Jack grunted, pulling harder. He wanted Gabriel’s weight on him, wanted him close, even if it caused him pain. The physical ache of bruises and bleeding was nothing compared to the pain he felt every time he stood across a battlefield from Gabriel, the pain of going weeks without a shadow of his presence, wondering if he was dead, permanently, this time. He wanted the pain of stitches ripping apart more than he wanted this unforgiving pain in his chest, in his heart, every time he had to stitch himself back up, every time Gabriel showed up to stitch him together again instead of killing him, every time they eventually had to part. He wanted the only pain that would stop the other, pain only Gabriel could give him

“Stop it, Jackie,” Gabriel ordered gently, softening his kisses. “You need to heal.”

“What if I don’t want to, this time?” Jack asked, barely a whisper.

“You’re not going to die by a side graze,” Gabriel replied, stroking Jack’s hair. “And I said it before; only I get to kill you.”

“Why don’t you?” This time, Jack opened his eyes, staring blindly up at the dark, shadowy figure hovering above him, his face obscured by the shadow of his hood and the unlit room. Neither moved for several long seconds, until Gabriel, instead of answering, closed the distance between them and kissed Jack, slow and gentle. Jack’s breath escaped with a sigh, his eyes falling closed as the last of his fight drained out of him. His grip loosened around Gabriel’s shoulders, and he let his hands fall back against the bed, where Gabriel quickly entwined their fingers together.

Squeezing Jack’s hand, Gabriel continued to kiss him, coaxing the tension out of his body until he relaxed under him. The deep roots of his pain slowly uncurled its grip under Gabriel’s attention and care, soothed by his kisses, bringing him a small, peaceful respite they privately shared together, late into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading x


End file.
